


Just Gone

by WheresMyPenn



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gore, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Survival, Zombies, can somone teach me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WheresMyPenn/pseuds/WheresMyPenn
Summary: No one knows her name, her age, or anything else about her. She was found on the side of the highway after the bombing of Atlanta, abandoned by her father. She won't talk much, and definitely won't reveal her name. She isn't comfortable around these people. Though the little girl has never met them personally, she knows the Dixon's. They're speech and mannerisms are familiar to her. When she approaches the brother one day asking for a favor, Merle takes interest in the girl. But out of all people in the camp reaching out to her, why is this orphan seeking refuge with the rednecks?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. The Dixon's

**The Dixon's**

The small girl approached the brothers' camp with caution.

After the two men had first joined their camp, she had taken notice of them immediately. They were familiar to her, she didn't know either of the men personally, but she recognized the way they talked, walked and acted toward others in the group.

She also recognized their isolation. She greatly envied the time they spent alone. She wasn't used to being so crowded, especially at a campsite. Luckily, the rest of the group paid her no mind, the only ones that even acknowledged her were Dale and Officer Shane.

The little girl turned her head around to the RV, seeing Dale was occupied with a book. She had spent most of her time on the roof with him in silence. She enjoyed his company, and he didn't seem to mind hers. She would sit with him, the umbrella shielding them both from the sun, while she discretely observed the Dixon's.

She turned her back away from the RV, making sure that if he were to look over, he wouldn't see what she was hiding behind her back. But she kept her back also out of view of the Dixon brothers. She couldn't show them right away, she had to be sure about them first. The last time she was caught leaving camp, Officer Shane yelled at her. Not that she cared, she just didn't want to be bothered. She hated the attention. She always stayed out of everyone's way, she didn't want anyone's attention.

Except the Dixon's.

She turned her head back to the brothers and stopped walking a short distance away from their separated camp. They were sitting across from each other. The younger brother, she heard others call: Daryl. The older brother, with the shaved head, recognized as Merle.

Daryl seemed to be fixing the end of an arrow, although she couldn't tell what was wrong with it. Merle was on her right, fiddling with a pocket knife, obviously bored.

_Be Blank. Be firm. Be Blunt. Be like Daddy._ She told herself. _Don't use names unless told otherwise._

This was either going to go really good, or really bad.

_ Don't be annoying, the second things go in the wrong direction, just walk away. Don't  _ care _. _

She felt her insides twist and turn with anxiety. This is a bad idea, they don't want to talk to a little girl. Just leave, walk away before-

"-Somethin' ya' want?" Daryl looked up from the arrow in his hands.

_ Too late. _

Merle followed his younger brother's eyes, raising his eyebrows at the sight of the girl. Not many would come over to them to talk, especially any of the children. The brothers watched her, waiting for an answer.

She couldn't have been more than 4'5". Her chestnut hair was put up into a high, crooked ponytail, a couple of thick strands of hair had been missed, framing her round face. She was wearing jeans, and a black long-sleeved shirt, possibly boiling from the heat.

Her grey eyes seemed very focused as she switched her gaze from Daryl to Merle. She shifted her right hand, holding it high behind her back, hiding what she held. Her eyes abruptly went to the ground, unsure of what to say. She had been waiting for this, planning it, but she had never thought of exactly what to say.

"Lil' girlie, why don't ya just head on back ta ya mama," Merle said, motioning with his head to the group's camp.

She looked up at Merle, grateful for something to respond with, "Mama ain't here."

"Go find her." Daryl dismissed her, returning to his task.

She almost frowned. Be blank. "Mama ain't here," she repeated. "Mama left Daddy, said he ain't no man. Said he had ta find his own pair a stones 'fore he got her back."

Daryl glanced back up, scrunching his eyebrows together, while Merle's lip twisted up into an amused grin.

"That so? Where's ya Daddy at now?" Merle asked, leering over at the group's camp, he seemed genuinely curious.

"Daddy ain't here either, mister." She said with a seemingly blank expression.

"And where'd he go?" Merle closed his pocket knife, placing his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. He was grateful for the entertainment the small girl was providing him with.

"I dunno. Officer Shane found me on the highway after he left. When Daddy didn't come back, he brought me ta camp with everyone else after the bombin'."

Merle's smile faded, rolling his eyes at his brother. "Officer Shane." He mocked.

"Daddy says we should show respect for the law. Whether or not ya have it." She explained herself, hiding her embarrassment.

He scoffed, "and whys that?"

"So they stay outta our business."

Merle laughed, causing a fit of coughs to erupt from his throat, "listen ta ya'." He said when he finished, "this officer stay outta ya business then?"

"Sometimes. But I been gone since dawn, just gettin' back now. No one seemed ta notice." The girl shrugged.

"What ya been doin'?" Daryl asked with an accusing tone. Merle just grinned at her, he was enjoying the answers she was giving them.

She pointed behind the Dixon brothers, indicating where she'd been, avoiding the initial question. The Dixon's briefly glanced at the wooded area behind them, then turned back to her.

"What's ya name, girlie?" Merle asked.

The girl's hand tensed around the secret she held behind her back, reminding her what she was there for.

"Are either of ya misters hunters?" She asked, certain she already knew the answer. Both Dixon's didn't fail to notice the questions she had dodged.

"Why," Daryl asked dismissively.

The girl considered that enough confirmation. She hesitated a moment to look toward the RV, checking if Dale was still occupied.

He was.

She slowly pulled her secret from behind her back, holding it up for the Dixon brothers to see.

Both of their eyes widened, Merle's smile disappeared from his face.

Her hand was wrapped around the tails of three squirrels, they hung from her hand, motionless.

After a few moments of silence, the tiny brunette began to feel very self-conscious of her game. The squirrels weren't very big, in fact, one, in particular, was very small.

"Daddy never taught me how ta skin 'em." She said, breaking the silence

"You set snares?" Daryl asked.

She shook her head, grabbing the hem of her shirt and lifting it to reveal a metal, traditional fork slingshot, held in place by her waistband.

"Well, I'll be damned." Merle stood, laughing.

The girl visibly flinched at the older brother's sudden movement but stayed in place.

He stalked toward her, chuckling, "Nice shot, aren't ya?"

"Daddy taught me." The girl held back her smile, secretly brimming with pride.

Merle reached toward the squirrels, "thanks for dinner, girlie"

The girl's brows knitted together as she frowned. She stepped back immediately pulling the squirrels closer to her.

Merle stopped, it was the most emotion either brother had seen out of her.

"You can have 'em if you teach me how ta skin 'em." She told Merle, she seemed to be glaring up at him.

Merle's face twisted into a scowl, before he could say anything, Daryl spoke, "how come ya daddy never taught ya?"

Her face seemed to be wiped clean of expression by the mention of her father. She switched the squirrels to her other hand. Then held up her right hand, palm out, revealing a thick pink scar that ran across her palm.

"Last time I got cut."

Merle placed his hands on his hips, glancing at his younger brother, who just shrugged in response.

"This why ya came for a visit?" Merle smirked.

"Yes, mister." She nodded sheepishly.

"Why not go play with the other kiddies?"

She shrugged, "I don't like 'em."

"Ya don't like the kiddies?"

"I don't like a lotta people, mister. That's why you're over here, ain't it? Cause you don't like people."

Merle laughed, "best ya stay outta our business, girlie."

"If ya stay outta mine I'll return the favor."

He crossed his arms, "just curious why ya wanna learn ta skin. Not what good lil' girlies oughta be doin'."

"I wanna do somethin' important."

"Lot's a' important things ta do. Why this? Ya gonna get your hands dirty, ya know." He warned, still smirking.

"I ain't afraid a' blood. I don't wanna be doin' laundry. This is what I know. Daddy's been teachin' me to hunt since I was lil'. Are ya gonna teach me?"

Merle stared down at the little girl, thinking her words over. Daryl didn't say anything, he just watched the encounter, curious with his brother's behavior.

Merle's hesitation made the girl anxious. She held up the squirrels again, "you can have 'em." She taunted.

Merle glanced back at his brother, turning back to the girl, he said, "ya got a knife?"

The girl smiled, nodding eagerly. She pushed her hand with the squirrels toward Merle. Hesitantly, he took them from her. Then she turned and ran toward camp to get her knife.

"Merle, what the hell, man."

Merle turned around to face his brother, clutching the squirrels in his hand, "problem, Darlina?"

"The fuck was that?"

"Got dinner for us, baby brother. We were gonna skin 'em anyways."

"Coulda' got dinner ourselves, no interest in hangin' around playin' Barbies. Why ya doin' this, you hate kids. You some kinda pedo now?"

"I ain't no kid raper. What's the harm in teachin' the lil' darlin' to take care of herself."

"Merle I know don't give two shits 'bout nobody, 'specially some kid."

Merle hesitated a minute, a thoughtful expression crossing his facial features, "thought she looked kinda familiar." He muttered, not looking at his brother.

"See her everyday, she always sits on the trailer with that ol' man."

"Yeah, your right." He nodded, smirking at Daryl, "eyes playin' tricks on me."


	2. Guttin' and Skinnin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merle gives the girl a lesson.

Once I reached mine and Officer Shane's tent. After making sure no one was watching, I walked around the tent. Behind it, next to a tree was a pile of dirt and dead leaves. Not the best hiding place, I knew that, but no one had found it or thought to look.

I crouched at the pile, moving the leaves away to reveal the only belongings I had. These were the only things I was able to grab from me and Daddy's car before Shane brought me with his group. Not that there was anything else.

I didn't get the chance to pack anything. Once Daddy decided we were going to Atlanta, I didn't get the time to even ask as we ran out the door. It was better that I didn't ask anyway. As always, I did what he said. We began our drive to Atlanta, but obviously, we never made it.

Beneath the leaves and dirt was a black leg sheath made of nylon, car keys, an orange pill bottle with round, large white pills in them, and an old pen. That was all I owned, that was all that was left in the car after Daddy left.

The leg wrap had six slots, in each slot was a seven inch long, stainless steel, handleless throwing knife with a lanyard hole at the end.

I wasn't good at throwing knives, but out of all the weapons Daddy taught me, the knives were what I took to the most. I had more fun with them, and because I enjoyed practicing with them, I got better with them fast. Though I had more fun with the knives, I was always best at the slingshot. It was the first weapon he ever taught me to use.

I slipped one of the knives out of a slot and reburied everything else. I wasn't sure what Officer Shane would do if he caught me with weapons and a bottle of pills. I didn't really know what the pills were, but Daddy left them in the glove box so I thought to grab them.

I hid the knife in my sleeve and returned to Dixon's camp. When I got there, Daryl had already gutted a squirrel and was beginning to skin it, something I'd seen Daddy do many times. Merle hadn't even started yet, he was holding another squirrel, a hunting knife in his other hand, the third squirrel was on the ground in front of him

"Sit down, darlin'. Ol' Merle ain't got all day." He ordered, his smile from before gone.

I sat beside him, the smallest squirrel of the three in front of me. I pulled my knife out of my sleeve. Clutching it as I waited to be told what to do next.

Merle did a double take at the knife in my hand, scrunching his eyebrows together, "Hell, girlie, you can't skin with that."

My stomach dropped at his words. I knew they were true. I attempted to keep my face blank as I responded. "It's all I got."

He let out a grunt of frustration, "Daryl, gimme your other knife."

Daryl looked up from his task, shaking his head, "Christ, Merle, I ain't givin' her no knife, ya seen her fuckin' hand."

"Gimme me the knife 'fore I beat your ass, boy."

Daryl cursed, dropping the half-skinned squirrel and hunting knife on his lap. He reached behind him and began rifling through a bag. Once he found what he was looking for, he gave it to Merle.

Merle traded knives with me. It was a bit smaller than his hunting knife, but not by much. I turned to the older man, only to see he had put his knife and squirrel on the ground. Instead, he held mine, inspecting it.

"Don't see knives like this every day, where ya get it?"

"Daddy. He used ta teach me."

"Can ya throw it?"

"I can throw 'em, can't sink 'em too well. Not strong 'nough. That's why he don't teach me no more, got mad."

He switched his gaze to me, mouth in a straight line, "what else your daddy teach ya?"

"Lots a stuff, he showed me some guns, but we don't use 'em often, he says usin' guns for huntin' is cheatin'."

"How's your aim?"

I shrugged, holding back my embarrassment again. I avoided the initial question, not wanting to say that shooting was another thing I failed at. I kept waiting, wondering if he was going to give me any instructions. Instead, he continued with the questions.

"What made ya wanna come over here?"

I shrugged again. I couldn't remember the last time I talked so much. I was answering him to keep him happy, so he'd agree to teach me. But I was becoming slightly annoyed.

I held up the knife and motioned to the squirrel in front of me. I hoped that was enough indication.

I'd seen them bring game into camp before. They seemed like out of all the people here, they knew what they were doing. They were experienced hunters and campers.

He smirked, "Didn't your daddy ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

I broke my blank expression to show my confusion. "No, why?"

He let out a grunt that sounded like a scoff, but he continued to stare at me. "You gonna introduce ya'self or should I guess?"

I held back on rolling my eyes, "you can try."

He laughed, and lucky for me doesn't ask again. "Ain't ya hot in that? I'm sweatin' like a fuckin' pig."

_ Why was he reminding me? _ To be honest, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt was excruciating in this heat. Others in the camp, including Officer Shane, Dale, and a woman named Lori had attempted to get me to change. I used the excuse that I didn't have any other clothes, but they kept offering some extra t-shirts they had. After adamantly refusing every time, they tried telling me the clothes needed to be washed.

Yes, I understood this, and I did wash them. Once everyone was asleep, I would sneak out of mine and Officer Shane's tent and sneak down to the quarry, strip my shirt, and wash it. It seemed unnecessary and primitive, but all the other shirts they wanted to give me wouldn't hide my arms. And if they saw what I hid, if they asked, I would have no idea how to answer.

I'd rather avoid the questions than face the confusion of whether or not to answer them.

"S'all I got." I told him.

"Just cut the sleeves off." He motions with my knife to my shoulder, where the seam of my sleeve is. Without thinking I recoiled at his sudden gesture, unsure of what he was doing. He seemed to notice and squinted his eyes at me.

After a moment, Merle looked away, grumbling something under his breath as he tossed my knife to the ground. I watched through the corner of my eye as he reached into his vest pocket and pulled a familiar small baggie out.

Even though it was small, watching him from the RV before, I had an idea of what it was. I was no stranger to it, seeing Daddy do the same on a daily basis. I didn't fully understand what it was for or why anyone did it, but I knew better than to ask.

I continued to watch as he poured a bit of white powder from the bag and onto his index finger. I eyed the baggie in confusion, not concentrating on him sucking it up his nose. I knew that was what you did.

I'm still examining the contents when Daryl grunted in annoyance, "Fuck. Couldn't ya wait ‘til later? Kid's like nine."

"I ain't nine," I muttered.

"Then how old are ya?" Merle smiled, wiping his nose. I easily ignored the question, not even planning to respond. When were they all going to stop asking,  _ wasn't it clear I wasn't going to tell them? _

Merle began to seal the baggie when he noticed me eyeing it. "Whatcha starin' at? I'd give ya some, but I don't think you'd take to it too well."

"Just thinkin'," I answered, averting my eyes again.

"'Bout what?"

_ Was Merle always this talkative? _ Even watching from the RV I hardly saw him carry a conversation with his brother.

I was becoming torn, confused, and not sure what to do. I was torn between Daddy always telling me to not answer anyone's questions and doing as I was told. I had answered more questions with Merle than I had spoken words with anyone else in the camp. Whenever Daddy decided to come join us at camp from wherever he went, I knew I would be in for a beating.

I always did what Daddy told me to do. That usually included listening, keeping people out of our business, and doing whatever he said. But whenever he had people over, if they asked any type of question, I wouldn't answer.

Daddy said, " _ don't answer questions, no one needs to know our business _ ."

But whenever the time came around that someone would ask questions and I didn't answer, he'd gotten mad and told me to, " _ show respect. _ "

I wasn't sure which to do with the Dixon's. I considered the second option was better, I didn't want to show disrespect or make them mad. I didn't want to be sent away before I had the chance to learn what I came to learn.

"The colour." I finally answered.

He seemed taken aback by the response. "Colour a' what?"

I motioned my head to the baggie, then shrugged, "the stuff Daddy uses is always yellow."

Hoping that was the end of it, I began to play around with the knife Merle gave me. I could feel both the brothers eyes on me, I wasn't sure why. I decided to ignore it, pretending I didn't notice.

Merle picked up the squirrel in front of me, tossing it in my lap, "watch and listen, I ain't gonna do this shit twice. Gotta gut the bitch first, don't wanna eat squirrel shit."

I remained silent throughout the lesson. I watched his hands carefully and did whatever he told me to do.

I knew this job was messy, but I underestimated it. The difference between the mess of an experienced skinner and gutter and an inexperienced one was great. I had grown used to the sight of blood and guts, but doing it hands-on, was a different matter. A couple of times I felt myself become nauseous but ignored the feeling.

At first, Merle seemed to get giddy, finding almost everything I did funny.

After the gutting part was done, I tried copying his movements through skinning. Which only made him laugh. "Stop, why’re ya holdin' it like that?"

"This is how you're doin' it, tryin' to do it like you."

"Like me? Ha, hear this, baby brother? Got a lil' mini me. Can't copy, kid. I have a different knife, bigger. And a bigger squirrel. Ya gotta do this . . ." He reached over, about to take my hand in his. I automatically flinched, not expecting the contact.

He stopped laughing, noticing my flinch. But he seemed to shake it off and began instructing me again. After that, it happened a couple more times. He would reach over, or motion with his knife to correct me, and each time I flinched. I didn't mean to, I tried to see it coming.

Each time he seemed to notice, each time he seemed to get less giddy, more annoyed and angry. Once Daryl had finished, he butchered the meat and lit a fire between us. He placed a small grate over the fire and began to cook his.

* * *

Once we were finally done, I noticed the sun was setting, I wasn't sure how long we'd been at this.

"I didn't do good," I said, angry with myself.

"Think you're bad, shoulda seen Daryl his first time." Merle shook his head.

"Fuck off," Daryl said.

Merle chuckled softly, "now get started on cuttin'."

I shook my head, "Officer Shane is gonna start lookin' for me soon to send me ta bed. I should go 'fore he starts askin' questions."

Daryl stared at me with an unreadable expression, "ain't gonna eat it?"

Again, I shook my head, "I told ya you can have 'em."

Merle took the knife and remains from me, "a'right, ya skinned your squirrel. Now git."

I nodded, picking up my throwing knife and leaving their tiny campsite. Walking through the group's camp, I try to hide my bloodied hands as I make my way to the quarry. No one even seemed to notice I exist as I walk by. After washing my hands and face in the water. I made it back to camp and ran into Officer Shane.

"There you are, kiddo, I was wondering where you were."

_ No, you weren't, or else you would've seen me _ , I thought. In reality, I just nodded.

"Where were you?" He said, placing his hands on his hips.

I raised my hand, pointing in the direction of the quarry.

"Really? I was down there earlier, didn't see you."

I shrugged.

"When I woke up this morning, you were gone, couldn't find you." He eyed me skeptically.

I averted my eyes to the ground, trying to think of something to respond with.

"She's been good!"

We both turned, looking up at the RV to see Dale smiling at us.

"I've been keeping an eye on her, she's just been roaming around."  _ Who knew Dale was such a liar _ ?

Officer Shane nodded, "Alright then, you eat?"

I nodded, lying.

"Let's get you to bed." The officer turned his back and I followed him to our tent. Once at the tent, I crawled into my cot, and he placed the blanket over me. I wasn't sure why he insisted on doing this every night, but I didn't question him.

"The kids were looking for you today, they wanted you to play. And before you roll your eyes it was  _ Carl's _ idea. You should play with them tomorrow, you just have to give them a chance. Who knows, maybe you'll like them so much you'll want to talk to them."

I shrugged. I caught Lori and him trying to get the kids to ask me to play with them on several occasions. I hadn't spoken to Carl before, he would speak, but just like I had with everyone else in the camp, I kept quiet and listened.

He was really upset about his father, who was also a police officer, he was in a coma after being shot and died sometime during the evacuation.

Officer Shane sighed, rubbing his chin, disappointed that I still hadn't said anything. "Night, kiddo."

He turned away, opening the flap to the tent, but I stopped him. "Do you think he'll have trouble findin' camp?"

I saw him tense up. I wasn't sure if it was because of his shock that I had actually spoken, which didn't happen often, or if it was because of what I had spoken about.

He turned back to me, running a hand through his hair while biting his bottom lip, "it's possible. I described the location the best I could."

After the bombing of Atlanta, and after waiting for my father to return, Shane brought me back to his car. There, I met Carol, her husband, Sophia, Carl, and Lori. Once they discussed plans with what they were doing with themselves, and me, they had a pretty good idea for a campsite. So Shane left a note in Daddy's car, telling him where the camp was in case he came back.

He put on a fake smile and let out a small laugh, "Lori was saying earlier today, that we should just name you ourselves. So, if you don't want to be stuck with somethin' you're gonna hate, I suggest you let us know."

I found this amusing, I did. I just wasn't sure what to do about it, was I supposed to show him I thought it was funny?

Once I decided to smile, I noticed he'd already given up and was leaving the tent.

* * *

I stared into the darkness of the tent for a while, I wasn't sure how long I waited, could've been an hour or two, but I was patient.

Once I heard footsteps approaching the tent, I shut my eyes feigning sleep. I listened as Shane quietly made his way into the tent and onto his cot. I strained my ears, listening to his breathing. After possibly, ten minutes, his breathing became slow and he was slightly snoring.

_ Asleep. _

Carefully, I kicked the blanket off and left the tent.

Not once since arriving had I actually slept in the tent, and I didn't plan too.


	3. Nightmares and Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girl encounters Merle outside of his element

I knew where they kept the soap they used for laundry and was able to get to it easily. Once I had the soap in hand I snuck down to the quarry. I had to walk slowly because I couldn't see the path well in the dark.

At the shore of the water, I took my shirt off, welcoming the coolness of the air after the hot day. My throwing knife fell to the ground, I forgot that after leaving Merle and Daryl I had put it back into my sleeve. I rubbed the soap into the shirt and washed it the bet I could. When I was finished, my hands were numb from the cold water, and I was beginning to feel cold myself.

I squeezed as much water out of it as possible.

This was the worst part.

Putting the shirt on. Biting my lip, I did it, already shaking from the cold.

_ Stop being weak, it's just a little water, just a little cold. You'll be fine later, you always are. _

I tucked the knife back into the tightness of the sleeve as I walked back to camp, and put the soap back where I found it. I approached the fire pit in the centre of the camp and sat on the ground, watching the dying embers. I brought my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I rested my head on my knees. I was really tired, but I didn't want to sleep. The reason I didn't sleep in the tent was because I was afraid of waking Officer Shane up. Back at home, I always woke Daddy up with my nightmares, he was always really mad. I didn't want to make anybody mad.

I was also afraid of him asking me questions I didn't want to answer.

_ I didn't know why I was running, or what from, I just knew I had to run. I felt scared, I couldn't breathe. Why was I so scared? _

_ I heard the cracking, snapping sound as pain spread throughout my back. I cried out, falling to the forest floor. _

_ Lying in the dirt and crying from the pain, I turned my head. I looked up to see Daddy standing over me, holding the belt over his shoulder. _

_ But there was something wrong. His skin was darker, dull, almost grey. Blood streamed down his face, but I couldn't see a wound. His eyes were yellow, dead. He's dead. He's dead. _

_ I cried harder as he came closer, opening his mouth as a snarling, hissing, growling sound rang out. I was crying screaming words at him, but I couldn't tell what I was saying. _

Words escaped my mouth as I gasped awake, I wasn't sure what I said. My eyes were watering and a few tears escaped. I wiped them away. I glanced at the fire pit, most of the embers had died out.

_ Oh no, how long had I slept? _

I couldn't catch my breath, I just kept gasping, trying to get as much air into my lungs as possible.

" _ Please no _ , what?"

I jumped, falling to the side, attempting to scramble away from whoever had spoken.

"Damn, girlie, calm the hell down. What's wrong with ya?"

I relaxed a bit, recognising Merle's rough, scratchy voice. But I was still shaking and struggling to breathe. Whether I was shaking from the nightmare or the cold, I had no idea.

"The hell, ya havin' a seizure or somethin'?"

_ Why is he up? _ I was out here every night and not once had I seen him out. "N-no. I'm . . . I'm fine."

He didn't say anything right away, just watched me for a minute, "why ain't ya in bed?"

"Ain't tired."

"Course not, that's why your sleeping out here." He scoffed. "Why ain't ya in bed? Gonna get yer'self in trouble. Where ya sleep anyway?"

"I share a tent with Officer Shane. Don’t wanna be there." I was breathing deeply, finally able to calm myself down. I could still see Daddy's dead eyes,  _ was it possible he was one of them now? Is that why he isn't here? _

He smirked, "Why not? He's an officer of the law, serve an' protect and all that shit."

"That's exactly why," I grunted out, frowning. I didn't have the energy to be blank. I was angry, at myself, at him. Even after that, I still wanted to go back to sleep. I was so tired. I thought by now maybe I would get used to so little sleep, and getting nightmares, but still every night, I felt so scared.  _ I wish I could sleep. _

He sniggered, "from the way ya talk, I have to guess your Daddy ain't so fond of the law."

"No, mister."

He rolled his eyes, "Name's Merle."

"I know that," I snapped.

"Then what's with all that mister shit? No use actin' all prissy and proper now, girl. Cut it out."

I clenched my teeth together, holding back a retort.

"You get nightmares a lot?"

My jaw dropped, "I . . . how-"

"-Ya talk in your sleep. Bein' outside ain't gonna help ya much with that."

I looked away, feeling angry. "Yeah, well. What do you know."

"I ain't no stranger ta nightmares, girlie."

I couldn't help but look at him again, as I did he lowered himself and sat beside me.

_ What is he doing? _ After watching him from the RV, he hardly ever talked to anyone else at camp.  _ Why is he talking to me? _ I honestly thought that after skinning the squirrel, the brothers would shoo me away and that would be that.

"Ya gonna tell me your name?"

_ He 's still on about that, really? _ Everyone else had given up already. "No, not tellin' you nothin'."

He elbowed me lightly, "Ya owe me, I taught ya how to skin."

"And ya got dinner."

He hesitated, looking at his elbow and at the area he bumped me with. "Why’re your clothes wet?"

"I washed it," I said bluntly, avoiding his eyes.

"Why don't ya wear somethin' else?"

I was getting really annoyed at this point, why was he asking questions? _ Couldn't everyone just shut up and leave me alone?  _ "I don't have nothin' else."

"I'm sure someone else'll have somethin' for ya."

"Don't wanna." I snapped again.

After a couple moments of silence, his voice is calm, quiet, in a way I hadn't heard him speak before. "See the way ya flinch. Too hot for those clothes, haven't complained once. You're coverin' somethin' up."

I held my breath,  _ he knew _ . I hugged my knees to my chest tightly, as I did before. I stared into the fire pit but I knew he was staring at me. I could feel his eyes burning holes into me.

" . . . Ya gonna tell?"

I could hear the smirk in his voice, "tell ya what, tell me how old ya are, an' I won't say a word."

"I ain't nine," I said through clenched teeth, turning to him, "I'm twelve. Why you keep askin' so many questions? You don't ask no one else no questions."

"You remind me of my brother when he was a kid. Tryin' to act all tough, tryin' to prove himself. It was funny ta watch. He used ta get lots a' nightmares, acted like such a baby an' tried so hard not ta be. Kinda miss it."

"He ain't like that no more?"

He stared back at me, not smiling or smirking. "Had to go away lots. Once I left for a long time, came back, he was different. Still acts like the big tough guy he isn't, though."

"What for? Why did you go away?"

"Different things . . . One time was for the Army."

"You joined the Army?" I asked, a little surprised.

He shrugged, "ain't got no profound reason for it, wanted ta get away, leave home."

I nodded, "I'm too young for it, but I thought of it, once I'm old 'nough. I know lots 'bout weapons from daddy. Would be nice ta get away too . . ."

"An' whys that?"

I hesitated, "never really left home, 'cept for campin' an' huntin'."

"So, ya think of the army."

I shrugged, "Daddy knows lots a' people who were in the military, so I hear 'bout it lots."

"Ya wanna get away from home, or get away from your daddy?"

My eyes widened, I don't even have time to hide my shocked and fearful expression.

"He hurt ya. Ain't hard ta tell."

"I-I . . . I get . . .I just get inta' trouble lots . . ." I put my head down, hiding my face with loose strands of hair from my ponytail.

A noise escaped his throat that sounded almost like a growl, "Ya ain't in trouble now. Stop fuckin' cowerin', I ain't no kid beater."

He sounded mad but at the same time he didn't. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to say sorry, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do at all.

"I didn't get along too well with my daddy either, had ta leave, or I woulda killed the bastard."

I raised my head to look at him through the corner of my eye, "it's not that we don't get along, I just . . . don't always listen too well . . ."

He pressed his lips together and looked around, obviously in search of something to say, "Ah, fuck."

Merle abruptly stood up, motioning for me to do the same, "c'mon." He sighed.

Hesitantly, I stood, following him toward the RV. At the side of the RV, lined up were three cardboard boxes. It was where we put stuff after Glenn came back from his runs into the city.

"Was goin' through these this mornin' . . ." he mumbled, going through one of the boxes. I wasn't sure fully what was in all of them because of how dark it was.

He pulled something out, then shook it out, as if trying to remove dust or dirt. He threw the fabric at me, once I caught it I held it out in front of me.

It was a light coloured, long-sleeved, button-up blouse. Feeling the material between my fingers, I could tell it was really thin.

"Girls like pink, right?"

It was hard to tell in the dark, but after he mentioned it, it did look to be a light shade of pink. I hated pink, but I didn't say anything.

"Won't fit too well, but it's better than what you have. You can't wear that no more, black attracts heat, and it's thick. Gotta be torture."

My mouth opened, but I couldn't get anything out. I was sure that he was angry a moment ago, but he seemed calm, I couldn't read his expression. The situation seemed kind of . . .  _ awkward _ .

"Git outta that wet shirt. I'm goin' to sleep, fuckin' tired." He rubbed the back of his neck and began walking toward his camp. "Go ta bed, can't hide from sleep forever."

"G'night, mister Merle," I said, feeling the corner of my lip curving upward.

He turned back to me, "what I tell ya 'bout that mister shit."

"I said  _ Merle _ ."

He smiled, pretending to act mad, "Cut it the fuck out."

I returned the smile, trying not to laugh. He rolled his eyes and started to walk away again.  My stomach did a nervous flip as I bit my lip. I wasn't really sure what made me tell him, but I didn't want to  _ not _ tell him. I couldn't even stop myself before the words left my mouth.

"Toby."

He glanced at me again, narrowing his eyes, "Toby?"

I nodded.

"Nice ta meet ya, Toby."

I let him leave as I stared down at the shirt he gave me.


End file.
